Virtual Insanity
by Luminara Unduli
Summary: Nearly a year after the defeat of the Reapers, Shepard is determined to find the truth about what happened on the Citadel and how Cerberus was really involved.  Unfortunately the Alliance has other ideas, and Shepard hopes for rescue from an old friend.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She dreamed of them…all of them; every night, without fail.

They were all reminders of her weakness, her failure. Friends, soldiers, those loved and lost followed her beyond the veil of her memories and into the realm of nightmares. At times she felt like a ghost-laden drell replaying and reliving conversations, horrific battles, the fall of comrades, and recalling every detail. Memories tore away her mind, piece by fragmented piece, leaving her raw and hapless. She was possessed; besieged by the vestige of those who were seeking hope.

They proclaimed her a hero, hailed her as the Savior of the galaxy. It was a ridiculous faith, though in her own disillusionment and loss of control she accepted this in penance. They looked to her as if she was the daughter of God, come to redeem them all and heal the worlds. Regardless of the truth, she understood what it meant to need a symbol. She became a relic, transformed herself into whatever form duty required of her, even as it slowly destroyed her.

She never believed that the war would end happily with soldiers rejoicing in the streets or reunited family and friends celebrating survival. Every species united together against a common foe with the great Commander Shepard as their leader in victory. Though the pretense of unity had mustered a figment of hope throughout the ranks, the true breadth of war had disparaged even the most enduring of beings.

She lied in her bed, her storm-ridden eyes closed, but sleep mockingly evaded her. Restlessness on the Normandy was always cured by a jaunt around the ship, but her current situation left her restricted to a single room at all times. Her only option was infuriating patience. Struggle as she might, the stillness of her body could not pacify her torrid mind. She considered calling her benefactors for relief in the form of sedation, but that would be confessing her weakness. To them – her captors, controllers, guardians or whatever term defined their role of "protection detail" – she had to always appear to be in control, to be strong of mind and constitution. A slip of her mask would mean another victory for them, and they sought to possess every molecule of her being.

A chirp from her omni-tool alerted her to a new message. Rolling the stiffness from her shoulders, she reluctantly sat up to check it. There was the usual agenda posted in her messages, along with instructions of what to wear, other dignitaries she should expect to encounter and a curt reminder of the correct way to address a salarian. A smirk flashed across her lips, remembering just yesterday asking the salarian ambassador if he could touch his eyeball with his tongue. She was testing her restraints, taking her freedoms where she could and hoping to stretch her boundaries just a bit.

There was, however, another message.

{***CLAIM YOUR FREE PRIZE!***}

The scrubbers who watched her inbox usually filtered out any junk mail, and somehow she heard a familiar voice read those words in her mind. She opened the message as her thoughts reeled with possibilities. Inside there was a link to an extranet site and the words "Enter the password." The link took her to a page that was blank. Then the text "Enter the password" appeared on the screen and flashed repeatedly. An instinctual memory prompted her response.

"Silence is golden," she whispered. Suddenly her omni-tool came alive and was flooded with text, images, and sounds of static. She glanced around the room, wondering what her guardians would think of her omni-tool going berserk. When no one came rushing in, excitement fluttered in the pit of her stomach. After a few moments, she heard a recognizable voice, but it had not spawned from a memory.

"Hey, Shep."

"Kasumi?" Her eyes darted feverishly about the room before they settled on the screen of her omni-tool. She cradled it in her other arm, as if to protect the surprising communication from the guards who constantly monitored her. Kasumi's face was garbled, but her mischievous grin brought comfort to her former Commander.

"Yeah, how are you? Sorry about this. It was the only way to talk."

"Don't apologize, I'm just happy to hear from you!" _From someone, from anyone!_ "Nice job on the hack. This definitely must have taken you some time."

"Oh, you flatterer!" she quipped with that familiar lilt in her voice.

"You sure they can't hear or see us? My room is full of-"

"Don't worry, I've taken care of that. But listen, Shep, we don't have much time. We need to know, do you want out?"

Shepard considered what her friend was asking. Did she feel trapped? Yes. Did she hate where she was? Yes. Did she hate the constant surveillance and lack of privacy? Without a doubt in her mind.

Leaving was a different matter. The Alliance told her they were keeping her safe from the galaxy, but she felt that the roles were actually reversed. Deep in thought, she covered her eyes from the blaring orange glow of her omni-tool.

If she lost her chance, possibly her only chance, she would lose the opportunity of finding the answers she sought. She was a woman of action, direct and forward. Move onward or ship out. Nothing was happening in the day-to-day bleariness of unmemorable politicians to meet, treaties to witness, or ribbons to cut. She was a soldier to the core and that was not the life for her. She had resigned to it as some sort of self-punishment, however undeserved. Shepard had given the galaxy everything, fought and died, was resurrected, and thrown back into the fray. If anything, the galaxy owed her beyond anything she could collect in her lifetime.

"Yeah, Kasumi. Whatever it takes to get me out of this hell hole." She would worry about the consequences later. There was only one desire vested in her now: knowledge.

"Alright, Shepard. Just be ready for some fun two days from now."

"Always ready and able."

The transmission ended, and she was left staring into the darkness in her quarters. The screen's residual static cast grievous shadows on her face. It was a virulent hope, yet, it was enthralling.

"We?" The casual mention of her former companions now reverberated in her mind. She had passed over the reference in the heat of the conversation. Shepard had not been allowed contact with any of her former comrades, much less any knowledge of their well-being. "Need-to-know basis" was the military's rhetoric of choice, and now Kasumi would not even mention any names. A fleeting seed of anger began to take root, but Shepard dismissed it almost immediately. Kasumi was probably protecting them, in case the knowledge of their communication ever reached the Alliance or other governments.

She thought of the friends who had joined her in the fight against Sovereign, the Collectors and the Reapers. Who had survived? Where were they, what were they doing? What did they think of her playing lapdog for the Alliance?

The thought of escape cured her of nightmares, if only because she couldn't sleep. It would momentarily suffice as a reason for her continued existence. During the months after the defeat of the Reapers, her life consisted of giving speeches and making public appearances. The ghostly memories of those events made her believe it possible she had been imprisoned inside a statue and fitted with a VI in her likeness.

Shepard had spent her previous lives sacrificing herself for other people. She decided it was time she lived selfishly and got what she needed for a change. People were sometimes gifted a second chance, but who was awarded a third? Somewhere within the vast expanse of the galaxy, the truth was calling to her, and nothing would stop her from searching for it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After a sleepless night, all Shepard had on her mind was her impending escape. It was well that her agenda for the day only consisted of an elementary school opening. The rest of her time was spent in PT and an appointment with her favorite person…the Military Psychologist. The woman they had paired her with was irrationally perceptive, and Shepard surmised the dark-haired woman was put there solely to get under her skin.

Her friendly escorts, Brick and Wall, as she had dubbed them, brought her to a room with two chairs, a table, and dimmed lighting. A two-way mirror was the only thing that could be labeled a decoration within the gray concrete cell. For all she knew there were only three rooms in the facility – her quarters, the gym and the dazzling bright spot in her daily adventure. Everything around her was bland – low stimuli, meant to focus the mind inward. Even her guards were decked out in grey and black uniforms instead of crisp Alliance blues.

_I thought therapists were supposed to elicit calm_, she mused when she entered the room and saw the doctor waiting for her. The woman had never even offered her name, never tried to befriend Shepard in the way shrinks usually do. _They try to gain your trust, express empathy, twist your words and thoughts until you aren't sure what you really think anymore_.

How many months had that routine been repeated? She couldn't be sure, of course, since they had a habit of sedating her if there were no forthcoming activities, or if she would be traveling to a new location. The only thing which hinted that she may still be with the Alliance were the regular transmissions from Admiral Hackett updating her on the rebuilding of Earth after the war with the Reapers. She once had a supervised visit from him while in the Alliance hospital. Questions exploded from her mouth about her squad, the Normandy crew, but he only shook his head and replied that he had no information for her.

That night, she had attempted to ping their names into her omni-tool.

[James Vega – No data.]

[Kenneth Donnelly – No data.]

[Jeff Moreau – No data.]

[Samantha Traynor – No data.]

It was like they had never even existed. Not even a military service record was left in the database. When she inquired, she received vague answers about extranet service being spotty, unavailable at times and unreliable at others. All Alliance personal records had been sealed for security purposes. She gave up asking eventually, knowing it to be futile.

"Sleep well?" the doctor asked in a condescending tone. Shepard sat on a low-backed sofa chair across from her, legs spread apart and arms rested on top of them. She leaned forward and lifted her gaze to the android of a woman before her.

"Fine, thanks," she replied coolly. She watched the doctor for clues, subtle hints in her body language that they were somehow aware of her interlude with her old friend. However, the woman was, as ever, irritatingly unreadable.

"Then you won't mind continuing on from last time, will you?"

"What, no puppets today?" The gravel in her voice could have filled the room to the ceiling.

"Really, Shepard, you must try to understand. The sooner you receive psychiatric clearance, the sooner you can return to military life, or civilian life if you so wish."

"Then tell me what you want me to say so we can both get the hell out of here."

"You know it does not work that way. We need to be sure your head is in the right place. You went through very traumatic events, and it is understandable that you – "

_Then tell me what in the hell happened to my crew! My friends!_

"– feel as if you are being treated unfairly, but we have your, and humanity's, best interests at heart."

Shepard gave a slow nod of ascent. Inside, she was empty; a husk of humanity's once beloved hero. When she had saved the Citadel from Sovereign, they had merely brushed her aside and portrayed the Reaper crisis as a mere geth incursion. Now it seemed they were trying to eradicate any evidence the Reapers had existed at all.

Including her.

And how was this possible, seeing as entire planets had been ravaged? Human colonies throughout the galaxy had been decimated or destroyed and major cities all across Earth had fallen. No one could forget what happened.

"Shall we continue, Shepard?"

"Refresh my memory." She leaned back in the chair, folded her arms and closed her eyes.

"Your time with Cerberus. The companions aboard your…vigilante vessel." The final words reverberated with disgust. She may as well have been discussing volus exotic dancing by the expression contorting her features.

"You'll have to be more specific, doctor." Contempt was all that sufficed as ammunition against them. The battle-fire within her had been reduced to a solitary ember but it still endured. She was a survivor, and despite the cowardice of the passions around her, she would continue to burn, to wait. Opening her eyes, she gave the doctor the glare of a hungry varren about to seize its prey.

The doctor's stoic eyes wavered momentarily, but it was enough to bring a jolt of pleasure to Shepard. She had always had a knack for intimidation.

"Mordin Solus, the salarian. Tell me about him."

"_Commander. Must speak with you. Important."_

"_What is it Mordin?"_

"_Have been coordinating with EDI on Reaper IFF. Interesting hypothesis."_

"_Fire away."_

"_Fascinating human colloquialism. Refers to – " _

"_Mordin!"_

"_Right. "Reaper IFF bears similar signature to old Prothean data streams. Analog. Will need to coordinate with Prothean expert to be sure."_

"_Analog? How is that possible?"_

"_Unknown. But true. Radio signals traveling into space, bouncing off of planets, asteroids, even concentrated dark matter."_

"_Can you trace them back to the source?"_

"_Possible. Will take time. Signals have been travelling through space for millennia. Interference a problem. Still piecing fragments together."_

"_Why would the IFF match the Prothean signals?"_

"_Reapers take data along with destruction of species. Builds upon it, adds it to their own. Culmination of all intelligent life and their experiences."_

"_But why would the Reapers want this? Why map it to their IFF?"_

"_Think, Commander. Reapers dominate other species. Manipulate them into technological advances before their time. Collect their ideas, add them together, cycle after cycle. Parade their intelligence like…"_

"_A trophy."_

The memory flashed like lightning in her mind, leaving a searing white light behind her eyes. Shepard regarded the woman before her, and the doctor arched a patient but determined eyebrow. How long had she been silent?

"The salarian," she prompted again.

"He's dead."

Thus went the game they played. The doctor provoking reactions and Shepard only giving half-answers. The torture sessions only lasted a few hours, but the mental exhaustion would threaten to crush her and pull her underground like a thresher maw. They would break her, eventually, and she knew it. An ordinary person would have relented long ago, but Shepard…she was defiant, to the last.

There was a midday meal and then it was on to the gym where Shepard would force her frustration out through her muscles and into any piece of equipment within her reach. If it wasn't for that daily ritual, her façade of complete control would have probably shattered months ago. It had been their one concession to her, and the one thing they could threaten to take away if she behaved badly in her public appearances.

She dressed for the evening in the darkness, but she knew that the infrared cameras could still see her outline in the dark. It was unnerving, but she could do nothing about it. Modesty and prudishness never survived long on deep space missions, but her captors were invasive, constantly looking for the crack in her shields to exploit and finally have her under complete control. When she turned the lights back on, she signaled to her hosts that she was ready. Before they entered, she gazed into the full-length mirror, and instantly regretted it.

The same blazing red hair, the same grey eyes looked back at her, both familiar and estranged. But they had ruined her, somehow. They had taken her biotic amp long ago, and her perception was skewed. The fearless resolve that emanated from her posture became downcast eyes, hunched shoulders, a constant shifting of weight from one leg to the other. The final moments before her public appearances were the most difficult. Each time she forced her shoulders to straighten and her chin to jerk upward in mock pride, she felt another sliver of her former resolve slip away.

Clipped knocking on the door brought her back and they entered to sedate her for the voyage.

There was a live extranet feed of the elementary school opening and Shepard was there, living symbol of the Systems Alliance and all their grandeur. She gave nods and acknowledgments to all the right people, shook hands with figureheads and even starred in a vid, reading a book to a class of children. The first school to re-open since the war was a true sign that normalcy was returning to Earth. A part of her was proud to be there, to herald in the next step in the reclaiming of their planet, of moving on.

And a very, very small part of her wanted to grab the nearest gun and go on a rampage through the crowds. She hated to think that the only thing that stayed her hand was the thought that Kasumi was coming for her, and she had said _we._


	3. Chapter 3

**Greetings!**

**I know it has been a while since I have updated, and I want to thank everyone for the reviews, alerts and favorites! Along with this story, I have another ME project in the works. Once the semester is over I will be updating more frequently (aiming for twice a week at least).**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**

**Lumi**

The good doctor had called for her nearly seven days in a row, Shepard realized, though it was getting harder to keep track. She hoped that they would leave her alone this morning. Mentally preparing for her escape would command all her thoughts today, and she did not want to unconsciously betray anything to that brown-haired beast.

Unfortunately, at 0900 there was a knock on her door and Brick was there, his buddy Wall not too far behind. They all knew the drill – and she followed him to the room at the end of the hallway where her nemesis was waiting for her. Obviously they thought they were within reach of breaking her, relentlessly bludgeoning her with witless questions, searching for her shatterpoint.

"Shepard. Are you well today?" the woman asked, her voice void of inflection.

"Fine. And you?" Shepard sat in her low-backed chair, calm etched on her face.

The doctor eyed her quizzically, the lack of her usual snarkiness not lost on her. "I am well."

"You know, you never gave me a name. What am I supposed to call you?" she asked curiously.

"My name is irrelevant here, Shepard." The doctor looked down at her datapad, skimming through text.

"But how should I refer to you? You know, when you aren't here."

"I fail to imagine a situation where you have need of speaking about me."

"You never know. I suppose I could just say the doctor with the shit-colored hair, or with the nasty mole above her lip, or the woman with breath so bad she'd make a krogan wince." There it was. The doctor smiled momentarily, but her features returned to their stoic set in a flash.

"Feeling combative, I see."

"I have plenty more of them."

"Very well, Shepard. I will concede. I am Doctor Janice Metrovsky."

"No Earth accent. Are you from a colony world?" Shepard went on, not missing a beat.

"No, I grew up the Citadel," Metrovsky replied absently.

"Ah, a privileged child. And how was your home, when you last left it?"

"My home was destroyed, thanks to –" She then stopped, and cleared her throat. Shepard had won that round, but she knew she would pay dearly for that slip of information later.

"Proceed with your torture, Doctor Metrovsky." Shepard gestured the woman to move forward, assuming her casual posture and leaned forward with elbows on her knees. It was a defensive stance, and her shields were ready.

"Let us discuss another of your former companions, shall we?"

Shepard sighed. Who would it be this time? Perhaps Garrus Vakarian, her right-hand man, or maybe Liara T'soni, her closest friend, had found their way onto the doctor's list. They had seemed more interested in the aliens on her ship than anyone else. Shepard had always wondered what the other Alliance personnel said about her when they were debriefed. Was anyone else from her ship being treated the same way? She knew continuing this train of thought would only lead to madness, as she had tormented herself during the quiet hours of the night thinking about them, what had become of them.

If she really had saved them all, or if they had all died while she lived.

"Fine, whatever," she replied. She mimicked defeat in her voice, wondering what card the doctor would play next. Shepard watched her as she scanned through text on her datapad, and then looked up at her.

"Thane Krios."

_The hum of the life support systems steadied her. What was she doing here? And why did she feel apprehensive? It seemed instinctual, after a mission, to come and talk to Thane. His deep, buzzing voice was soothing, and his words always offered reassurance._

"_Shepard. Need something?" he asked, as he always did. She walked to the viewport and folded her hands behind her back._

"_That certainly could have gone better." She was still reeling from Zaeed's contract mission, where they attempted to hunt down a mercenary that had betrayed him. "I've never met anyone so driven by revenge - so much so that they would destroy themselves for a change to get back at their enemies. Was his life's entire meaning is wrapped up in fulfilling this masochistic fantasy?"_

"_Vengence is different for each person. It can be a matter of honor, a requirement of social stigma. It can also come from pain, from powerful memories that never abate." Thane's subaqueous voice resonated calm and control throughout the room._

_She considered his declaration amidst her own torrent of thoughts. Yes, she had wanted revenge, had dreamed about what she would do to the Batarian slavers that attacked Mindoir. But she had never acted on it, and never would. Sometimes it seemed nothing more than a past life, even someone else's tragedy that she'd watched in a news vid._

"_Sometimes, it is loss," he continued. "And in losing everything, a man can lose himself, become someone different. Zaeed tells many stories of war, of battles. One may wonder what came before his days of glory and why he never speaks of anything but fighting." She turned to look at Thane who was now standing next to her, gazing out into the void of space._

"_Have you never dreamed of revenge, Shepard?"_

"_I think everyone has at some point, no matter how trivial the reason." Practical jokes between recruits, stolen rations, insults…the list was endless._

"_Consider the protection of others. If your retaliation against someone who wronged you could keep them from repeating those crimes towards others, would you pursue them?"_

"_Well yes, protecting people is what I do." She had a feeling there was more beyond the surface of the question._

"_Would your heart be free of revenge?"_

"_I…" And she wondered, if she could see those slavers again, what would she do in the guise of stopping them from hurting others? The faces of her neighbors, friends and family on Mindoir were a blur of fear, distress, terror; that was the chilling final memory of them which would remain with her forever. Even though she knew it would not bring them back, she could imagine herself taking her sweet time to finish off those batarian assholes, and the thought of it brought her immeasurable pleasure. Her biotic senses twitched, ached for action, and she felt the arc of unguarded energy threaten to release itself without her command._

"_No." She was honest; she knew she could not judge anyone else for wanting something she had always been denied. There was a lingering silence between them now, and the hum in the background grounded her once again._

_Or was that Thane's breathing?_

_After they had rescued Kolyat, Thane's son, Shepard recalled their conversation. He had lost his wife and child, had hunted down those who killed her, and abandoned his only son in an effort to protect him. How would she have dealt with such a loss? Could she judge him for it?_

_No, she had nothing but compassion for him. _

_Thane._

Shepard leaned forward, coming out of the fading memory. Her eyes were shroud in shadows, her features heavy and disparaged. She could not even bring herself to disguise her reaction. Her mask had slipped – and they had uncovered a weakness.

"He is…dead."


	4. Chapter 4

**A few notes:**

**Yes, there will be a pairing in the future, but I will keep that a mystery for now.**

**I am looking for a beta. Anyone interested, just pm me.**

**Enjoy!**

**Lumi**

When the sedation from the travel began to wear off, Shepard took the time to ascertain where she was. She could hear the sounds of a mingling crowd in a distant room and when she opened her eyes she found herself propped up in an office chair with two brutes by her side. Typically she had one at her side, two at a distance as they followed her around whatever spectacle the Alliance had brought her to just to show her off.

"Shepard," she heard a gruff, recognizable voice call her name behind her. Hackett came around the chair to face her, his expression unreadable as always. He was never the bearer of good news.

"Admiral." She felt the tingling of anticipation in her stomach.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Her arms and legs still felt heavy, but she knew in a matter of minutes the sensation would abate, and they would shove her out the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I have something for you." He took something from one of his aides and handed her a box, but the brute sporting a fresh Marine hair cut next to her intercepted it and opened it. He scanned it with his omni-tool before passing it on to Shepard.

"Thanks for saving me the trouble," she spat, and took the item. It was a bracelet; simple, silver and cool to the touch. She eyed the band for some sort of trickery before sliding it on to her wrist.

"It suits you," Hackett commented, though he sounded uncomfortable.

"Um, thanks." She wasn't sure what ulterior motive this man had, but he was up to something. "Admiral?"

"Enjoy the reception, Shepard," he cut her off and spun a one-eighty, leaving her staring at his dress blue coat tails.

In a matter of moments, Shepard was herded into a reception hall and toasted as a hero, forced to shake hands with CO's, friends and relatives of those she had led to their deaths. These kinds of meetings were usually the worst. She had to distance herself from her memories, seeing no blame evident in their eyes, but feeling it acutely in her heart. The horde of unfamiliar faces seemed to find her presence reassuring, but to Shepard, it was all just an illusion. It had to be. She longed to know what was happening outside the walls, for just a glimpse of the sky, and to see the wreckage of the final battle against the Reapers with her own eyes, reassuring herself it wasn't in her head. Anyone in the crowd could have given her an answer, but the brass had probably stonewalled any possibility of that.

_Don't mention the 'you-know-what' to 'you-know-who'. It was very traumatic for her and she doesn't like to be reminded of it._

No doubt that's what they thought when they saw her; Commander Shepard, the consummate hero, grim lines of sorrow forever engraved on her face.

There was one person she did recognize, and she found her apprehension rising when he sought her out. "Baily!" she exclaimed, beyond surprised to see the former C-sec officer.

"Shepard! He replied enthusiastically. It didn't require any skill in decryption to realize that Baily had taken full advantage of the event's open bar. He had two wine glasses in his hands and offered one to Shepard. She shook her head automatically; she was instructed to avoided drinking at any public event.

"Come on Shepard, can't take a swig with an old friend?" he hiccupped and swirled the sanguine liquid around in the glass. Shepard watched him as he took a long, contented sniff of the wine. "Serrice Ice Brandy…and oldie but a goodie."

Was it her imagination or did Baily just wink at her? She shook it off, and took the offered glass, recollection reverberating in her like a bell.

"Drink up, Commander. You'll need your strength."

She was about to remind Baily that the title was honorary only, that she had no ship, no crew, but he walked away. Peripheral vision outlined the Alliance officer who was always nearby, not quite in arm's reach, but close enough. There were at least two more that kept constant vigilance on her presence. Before they could intercept and scan her wine glass, she downed the brandy in one swig, wiping away a small drop that had fallen from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She put the empty glass on the nearest wait staff tray and returned to the dais where she had been sitting during the banquet.

There were no more signs of anyone else she recognized. She didn't know what she expected to happen…her old squad storming the reception hall? Perhaps they would intercept her transport from the event, or even stake out the facility in which she was held and take her at night.

She alternated between thinking about what might happen and trying to quiet her mind. She had to be ready for action at any moment, and a distraction, however insignificant, could make the mission that much more difficult.

Mission? Where did that come from?

Occasionally someone would approach the dais and Shepard would greet them, offer the usual pleasantries and shake hands. Once in a while someone would ask for a photograph and she would comply, though she never smiled. She found herself searching for Baily in the crowd but could not find him again.

Not long after drinking the glass of proverbial cheer, she felt a rumbling in her stomach. It was uncomfortable, and…familiar. She stood up and was gripped by a wave of nausea and dizziness. Her stomach gurgled. She leaned on the back of the chair momentarily, her knuckles going white as she realized what was about to happen. She bolted for the restroom, her "honor guard" close behind. Once she disappeared behind the door marked 'women', they seemed reluctant to follow her. Shepard burst into the first stall and her body seemed to take its cue from the sight of the toilet in front of her. She retched, three times, and slid down to her knees. The door opened and one of the Alliance drones called after her.

"Are you alright?"

"Sick. I need a few minutes." Nowhere to go from here, anyway, she thought to herself. There was only one way in and out, and it was surrounded by the compatriots of Brick and Wall. She heard the door swing closed. At least they had left her alone.

"Take all the time you need, Shep," Kasumi's voice said. She looked up to see her old friend's face leaning over the top of the stall. The hood was pulled back a bit further than usual, Shepard noted, and Kasumi's eyes glittered as she smiled.

"This was the best idea you came up with?" Shepard hunched over again, spitting leftover bile from her mouth. Torn between the urge to strangle or hug her, she made a strenuous effort to stand. Kasumi simply smirked and passed down a water bottle to her.

"You'll feel better soon enough, and then you'll thank me."

"I'm sure the press got plenty of pictures of that lovey face I must have made before I ran in here." She had given up on standing for the moment and took a few long draughts of water.

"I'll keep an eye out for them."

"To delete them, I hope."

"Of course! What kind of friend do you think I am?"

"The kind that makes me almost puke in front of a crowd of people." _The kind that has my back. _"Really, what made you think of that?"

"It was a good distraction, a way to get you away from your guards, and it will also help get the drugs out of your system faster," the thief girl mused.

"The sedation? That wore off nearly an hour ago."

"Not the sedation. They've been drugging you. Haven't you noticed? Your perception is off, your reaction times are slower…"

Shepard was dumbfounded. "I thought it was because they took my amp."

"No. When I hacked into their system, I found several videos of you trying to escape. They had to drug you to keep you slow, tired, non-combative. I passed the information on to a certain doctor; she came up with this plan and said she could get it to you by way of 'an old friend'. She really is brilliant, isn't she?"

"Yeah, remind me to thank her later." She was still reeling from that last piece of information.

Drugging her? That really made her angry. Coupled with the cleansing effects of the brandy, she could feel the familiar static bristling at the back of her neck.

"Don't suppose you have an amp on you?" she asked,

"Sorry, it was hard enough to sneak in here as it is."

"Kasumi, master thief, found this hard?"

"We had a short time to plan this and an even smaller window to pull it off. We aren't out of the woods yet, Commander."

"Don't call me that." Shepard looked down at the floor.

"Why not?"

"Just don't."

"Alright." She let it slide without comment. "Do you feel better yet?"

"Yeah, I think I can finally get up." She proved it by standing, albeit slowly. Her head still felt a little fuzzy, but she was recovering, and quickly. It was like she had been wading through a fog for the past several months, and it was lifting.

Kasumi pointed to the bracelet on Shepard's left wrist and smiled. "Good, he was able to get it to you. I thought the scanners might catch that on my way in so I left it in the hands of someone very capable."

"Hackett?"

"Yes, who else?"

"I thought he –"

"They monitor him at all times, but he is playing their game, keeping his eyes open." Kasumi leaned her folded arms over the wall and rested her chin.

"And I fought them," Shepard commented to herself. What if she had just gone along with what they wanted, what they asked of her? Best case scenario, it would have resulted in a longer leash, and more suicide missions. There were many questions in her mind, but now was not the time for that. She was beginning to feel like herself again. Her old self.

Amp or no, she could still manage a few small biotic attacks, enough for a distraction. She felt the comforting surge of energy ripple through her limbs. Glancing over at Kasumi, she gave her a nod of understanding.

"In any case they did scan it, before he could give it to me."

"The personal units wouldn't have picked it up. They were probably searching for weapons or other contraband."

Shepard pulled the bracelet off her wrist and examined it. "So if it isn't a mini-rocket launcher, what exactly is this thing?"

"Your ticket out of here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Ladies and gentlemen, I present you with chapter 5! A long time coming, I know. Now that school is done, I should be able to adopt some sort of regularly scheduled updating.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, alerts I received from the last chapter! They keep me motivated.**

**Also thanks to my new beta, **M4GIC OR4NGEZ!

**And now, I have to be to work in 5 hours.**

**Lumi**

"Alright, what's the plan?" Shepard questioned, rotating her shoulders in anticipation of a coming battle.

"For now, we wait." Kasumi came out of her stall and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed.

"Wait for what?"

"Not what; who." As if right on cue, Shepard heard a familiar feminine voice outside the door. A French accent.

"Don't worry, gentlemen. I will assess the situation. See that you don't let anyone else in here while I examine her." The door opened, and Doctor Michel came in carrying a small medic bag. It was a colossal understatement to say that Shepard was shocked to see her.

"Hello Chloe," Kasumi said.

"Hello Miss Goto," Michel responded. "How is your finger?"

"Much better thanks to you."

"Yes, those paper cuts can be deadly." They shared a laugh.

"Paper cut?" Shepard asked, confused.

"No time to explain. Were you able to get everything in?"

"Yes, it was relatively easy." The doctor knelt down on the floor and hesitated before she opened up her bag, looking up at Kasumi. "We should let them see her before you leave."

"I think that's a good idea, just to reassure them that she is still here."

"Alright, Shepard, lie down on the floor and look ill." Michel patted her hand on the granite tile beneath her. "Doctor's orders." Shepard complied, trying her best to adopt a sickly formation.

"Breath raspy or something. Maybe try drooling," Kasumi snickered. Shepard gave her a sideways glare which only provoked more laughter.

"Miss Goto, you had better hide," Michel warned. Once they all had their places, Michel went to the door and called for help. One of the officers met her and she motioned for him to enter. He was reluctant, but followed orders.

"I need you to help me prop her up against the wall. I think she may have some fluid in her lungs and it will help her breathe better." The guard complied, but unsure of what to do next he watched Michel take her vitals.

"Thank you for your assistance. You may go," she commanded.

"Do you know what is wrong with her?"

"I believe she had a non-anaphylactic allergic reaction."

"Reaction to what?"

"Impossible to say without doing some tests."

"Is she safe?"

"Yes, I foresee no immediate danger."

"I should call the hospital."

"We both know the Admiral would not want her anywhere near the general public without the proper protocols in place. I can handle this, but it will take me some time. I will let you know if I require more assistance." She waved him off and subsequently ignored him. A few moments later he left, whispering an update into his comm.

"That should satisfy them for a while. Just present them a litany of medical jargon and they will be none the wiser."

"It sounds like you've done this before," Shepard mused.

"Gets the Alliance officials out of my hair and allows me to concentrate on treating patients. I consider it a valuable method."

"Alright, so how do we get out of here?" Shepard stood and brushed her dress slacks with her hands.

"I will distract them at the door and the two of you will sneak out while cloaked," Michel added.

"Cloaked? Is that what's in your bag?" Shepard wondered hopefully.

"Heavens no! I would have never passed through security with something that elaborate," Michel exclaimed.

"Hackett's gift. Tap it three times." Kasumi pointed to the silver cuff on Shepard's wrist. She obeyed, tapping her finger three times and she felt a field of energy envelop her. "The bracelet will cloak you in short bursts, probably around thirty to forty-five seconds at a time and will vibrate with a warning five seconds before it shorts out. Not as good as mine, but, it was the best we could do."

"Sounds like a solid plan," invisible Shepard observed, "except that once we're out in the hall, someone is going recognize me."

"That's what this is for." Michel opened her bag and revealed a short navy blue dress, jewelry, a parcel of make-up, and boots as tall as the elevator shafts on the Citadel. As soon as the cloaking function had shorted out, they wasted no time in getting her ready – Shepard donned the dress, Kasumi worked her magic with the cosmetics and Michel used her practiced deft fingers to manipulate Shepard's hair in a braided mock mohawk, integrating silvery beaded strands every few inches. When the transformation was complete, Shepard hardly recognized herself. She slid the thigh-high black boots on last, feeling completely uncomfortable in the full ensemble.

"Probably too much to ask for a side-arm?" she joked, thinking the boots would be the perfect place to hide one in an easy reach. In fact, that was the only good thing about them.

"I have a cache waiting for us not far from here," Kasumi replied.

"What about you, doctor? They'll arrest you once they find me gone."

"You saved my life Shepard, more times than I can count. This is the least I can do."

Shepard regarded the woman and nodded respectfully. "Thank you, Doctor Michel. And be safe."

"I will do my best."

When Kasumi and Shepard took up their positions near the entrance, Michel opened the door to the women's restroom and the guards were there waiting for her. She gave them instructions and a short list of items to requisition so she could treat her patient. The first soldier nodded and headed off into the crowd while the others stayed at the door, one with his eye on Michel and the other staring off into the crowd. The instant before Michel slipped back into the room, the pair activated their disguises and made their move. They had clasped hands and Shepard started counting down from 30 in her head, hoping they could get to their planned spot behind the bar before the device shorted out and a strange woman suddenly appeared in the room. As they made their way towards the bar, Shepard saw that Baily was leaning against the wall nearby and giving the attendant a hard time. When they passed by, Kasumi tapped him silently on the back of the arm in a quick rhythm, and Baily requested an obscure concoction. The bartender sighed and went around the back of the wall to find whatever it was Baily had ordered, while the girls crouched behind the bar. Kasumi remained cloaked while they waited for Shepard's device to deactivate itself.

She soon felt the knowing vibration on her wrist and in five seconds she could see her hands again. When she stood, Baily regarded her with a nod. He pointed a finger to the left and gave the signal meaning 'exit'. She made her way through the crowd knowing Kasumi was not far behind her.

"The doctor should be able to buy us another 20 minutes or so, but maybe more. I'm monitoring the comm channels now and they still believe you are sick," Kasumi whispered from behind her.

"Wonderful." In fact, she was feeling a bit sick. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through her system for the first time in several months, or maybe it was that batarian delicacy that looked like a miniature squid with green fuzzy spikes.

Or, perhaps it was the shock of being jacked up on military grade pharmaceuticals for who knows how long and having them suddenly flushed from her system.

The unnerving thought was forcefully expelled from her head. That was just the kind of mind frame that would have her second-guessing herself. She'd overcome more frantic odds in her past – she took down a platoon of mercs with two rounds in her leg and one in her gut for fuck's sake! The old Shepard had even begun to believe in her own propagated invincibility after so many episodes of completing the impossible, solving the improbable, and winning the unlikely. Doubt was not in her nature.

Once they were clear of the reception room and the entryway, Kasumi deactivated her cloak and took the lead. She was leading Shepard through hallways and into a storage room, then down a ladder and into a room full of servers. "Another mission objective," she murmured, and disappeared into the forest of synthetics. Shepard felt hot and wiped the back of her hand against her damp forehead.

"Anything I can do?"

"Almost done," came a call from a distance. Shepard unconsciously tapped her foot until her friend returned.

"What did you do?"

"Just dropped a little bug. Should let me pry deeper and bypass those pesky Alliance protocols undetected once we get out of here. You aren't the only one searching for answers."

They wandered through several corridors, Shepard following barely two steps behind Kasumi. The thief girl was using the HUD projected over her eyes to lead her through the building and a pre-determined exit. Shepard couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. This was too easy, wandering out the backdoor. Even if they hadn't detected her absence yet, there still should be MP's wandering around; it would be SOP for an event such as this. She decided not to overthink it, however. Kasumi probably knew something she didn't. Despite the strangeness, Kasumi had taken the commander roll in their escape mission, and Shepard felt oddly at ease letting someone else be in control.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling.

"Almost there," Kasumi whispered, and they came to a door marked EMERGENCY EXIT. "Just need to disable the alarm. The cache is just outside."

Outside? Shepard had not seen the sky since…well, it was hard to say when. She was still struggling to sort her memories in sequential order. Suffice to say, it felt like an eternity.

"Should we cloak?" she asked, apprehension clearly in her voice. Kasumi nodded once.

"When I open the door, activate your bracelet." A few ticks later, the exit opened with a _whoosh_, and no alarm. The friends cloaked themselves and clasped hands, Shepard once again following her rescuer. It took all her mental alacrity to remain in control of her eyes; they sought to behold the planet she had supposedly saved. Despite hearing the story from many people and Alliance propaganda, she didn't remember it – and could hardly admit she believed it. Instead, she aimed to focus her mind on the mission. When she was safely out of the grasp of the Alliance, she would have all the time in the world to see the wounded planet.

They stepped out into the night and Shepard took a deep breath. She didn't realize she had stopped moving until she felt the pull on her arm bring her back to the task at hand: getting armed. Kasumi took her behind some broken crates on the side of the building where a footlocker sat. She keyed in the code and the locker opened, revealing two pistols and two shield belts.

"Finally," Shepard sighed, feeling energized at the sensation of having the pistol in her hands. She popped the clip and checked the balance of the weapon since it was an unfamiliar model. Nodding to her companion, she activated her shields and they were on their way.

They traveled in the shadows of the mismatched buildings, prefabs and wreckage. Shepard had never been one for stealth, though without physical armor it was easy to keep one's footsteps light and soundless. It was ten minutes later that Kasumi held her hand up in a fist, and they fell back behind the corner of a derelict building.

"They know," was all the thief said, and Shepard's lips flat lined. She had forgotten Kasumi was still monitoring Alliance chatter. "This way."

They changed routes, and Shepard wished she had her own comm. Running around naked and blind reminded her of her N7 training, but she always had a comm. She looked to the sky, but not knowing the time of night, or even time of year, she could not be sure what direction they were heading. Hell, she didn't even know what country this was. In the darkness, the buildings around her gave no indication or clue as to her location.

As they ran through a maze of rubble, she became aware of a rumbling sound in the distance. It was gradually getting louder. Kasumi led her to a hollowed out building and motioned her to get close. She brought up a display on her omni-tool, and pointed to a mass of something on the map, just north of them.

"What is that?" she groaned, knowing the answer as soon as the words were loose.

"A blockade. They're trying to keep you from escaping."

"Shit. I knew this was too easy."

"Don't worry, Shep. We still have a few tricks left." She turned off the display and put her fingers to her ear. "I don't think we'll make it to the rendezvous. Can you come to us?"

A few moments went by as Shepard pondered who might be on the other end.

"Good, sending coordinates." Kasumi stood, and turned to Shepard, her mouth gaping. "Shepard, are you alright?"

"Fine. Why?"

"Because you're…blinking."

Blinking? What did she mean by that?

"I don't understand."

"Your temple, on the left side of your face. Oh…"

"Did they put a fucking bomb in me?" _Goddamn Cerberus…or Alliance…or whoever is fucking with me now!_

"Not a bomb, but bad. They're tracking you. They must have activated it when they found you missing. I should have…I'm sorry Shep. I should have thought of that."

"Can you deactivate or disrupt it?" Kasumi approached her with her omni-tool glowing, but after a few moments she gave up.

"It's no use. We will have to wait until we get to the base."

"How long til evac?" Shepard asked.

"I can't get a reading on our pickup."

"And our incoming company?"

"Hard to tell. Alliance forces are still amassed at the fortress, minus the blockade which has orders to maintain the perimeter. They think there is no way in or out." Her fingers danced over the holographic display on her arm. "They might have some hired muscle though, and…"

"What?" Before Shepard could see, Kasumi shut off the display and looked around their location.

"We had better find some cover." Shepard followed her example. The storage crates behind them were their best bet for an immediate assault, but they would be backed against the wall with little possibility for a retreat. Before she could search for better cover, two shots ricocheted off her shields and she instinctively dove behind the crates. She squatted with her back to the crate and twisted her neck to try and get a location of her attacker and was awarded with another round of shots in her direction.

"Kasumui!"

"On it!" she shouted and activated her cloak. Shepard attempted one more peek to find the origin of the attack, but it was dark, and sweat was pouring from her forehead, stinging her eyes. The assault continued, and she didn't know how much more the crates could take. If they had any heavy ammo, she was in some serious trouble.

_Above you!_

She looked up and saw flickering shields up on a balcony. Damn…if she had a comm, she could alert Kasumi. But if she didn't have one…

Whose voice did she hear just now?

She glanced around her, knowing she wouldn't see anyone. Kasumi had cloaked herself to do what she did best. Shepard couldn't rely on her own magic wristband to keep her under cover for more than 30 seconds. She had no armor and only minimal shields, not to mention the bare spot on the back of her neck.

And apparently, she was hearing voices. Oh, happy _fucking_ day!

"Got one!" Kasumi exclaimed from across the alley. The marksmen on the balcony turned their attention in her direction and they released a barrage of bullets.

_Take them out, Shepard._

"I can't!"

_It's either you or them, kid. And I'm betting on you._

"But they could be Alliance!"

_Sometimes you have to make a tough call. We've all had to do it. Remember, Chief Williams?_

"That was different. I didn't literally point my gun at her and pull the trigger."

_No different. Only different in your mind._

"So you're saying I killed her?"

_Not at all._

"Then if I'm not responsible for her death, who is?" she demanded.

Silence. Not just from the consummate voice raining wisdom upon her, but the guns had stopped. During her delusions of grandeur, she had failed to realize the firefight was over.

Kasumi appeared at her right, her cloak deactivated. "Enemies neutralized."

"You didn't…" she panicked, grabbing Kasumi's wrist.

"No, Shepard. I knocked them out." Shepard released her grip and Kasumi rested her hand on her friend's arm. "What is going on? Are you feeling ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just…I'm fine. What's next?"

"We wait."

"More waiting? Does this include another costume change? Because these shoes really aren't made for mobility."

The hum of an incoming vessel drowned out her final words as it approached their location. It landed, the door opened, and someone in full combat regalia reached out his arm to pull the girls on board. Once the door closed, the man slammed a fist on the pilot's door and they took off.

"Thanks for the lift," Kasumi smiled.

"Always a goddamned pleasure." The man lifted off his helmet as he spoke. _ "Commander_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to my beta, **M4GIC OR4NGEZ**! **

**Also, I will be going on vacation where there be no internets (except for a nominal fee of $15 for 2 hours!). I plan on trying to update again before that time comes.**

**Thanks for the alerts and reviews!**

**Lumi**

Zaeed.

Same scars, same glossy eyes, same stonewalled expression. He was the last person Shepard had expected to see. After she had spoiled his revenge, Shepard anticipated his defection since she hadn't held her end of the deal on Cerberus' behalf. Mercenaries held to their own strict code of honor, and apparently Massani's code had him following her until the end.

Unfortunately, this was not the best time for friendly reunions.

"What's with the –" he tapped his own temple and pointed to Shepard.

"I'm apparently equipped with my own homing beacon." He then looked to Kasumi, who shook her head.

"Already tried. No luck."

"Her own goddamned people couldn't keep their hands out of her brain," he raged. "We'll fix it back home."

"Any chance we'll get out of here without confrontation?" Shepard asked, hopelessly wishing for something to be easy for once.

"About as much of a chance you had shitting out little krogan babies after we took out that thresher," Zaeed answered. He looked to Kasumi who had brought up a tactical readout on her omni-tool.

"They're close."

"How close?" Zaeed hovered while Kasumi grazed through the interface.

"Ten klicks and closing in," she responded. "Two Alliance vessels, one freelance."

"They going to attack?" Shepard speculated.

"They want you alive," he assessed. "But they'll try to take us down. Better strap yourselves in ladies. Shit's about to hit the fan."

"Bogeys, on our six!" the pilot shouted There was a spray of bullets from behind them and Shepard had barely tightened her restraints before the vessel lurched into action. The shuttle banked hard to the right and Shepard's elbow stabbed straight into Kasumi's ribs.

"Ouch!" she grunted, rubbing her side when the shuttle had righted itself.

"This thing have shields?" Shepard yelled through the furious storm of fire outside the transport.

"Just enough for an emergency landing." They both knew the hull's integrity wouldn't last long against the onslaught, and soon they would be utilizing those shields. Zaeed unstrapped himself and hooked an arm around a beam near the side door while pulling a gun down from the ceiling.

"Shepard, take the rail gun!" She didn't waste any time and followed his orders. Zaeed prepped the weapon and Shepard pressed the quick-release her restraints while the vessel continued its evasive flying. They could hear several rounds zing by the hull but none scored a hit. Zaeed was right; they were trying to take her alive.

Zaeed punched the controls for one of the side doors and it opened. Just as Shepard reached the gun, the shuttle made a sudden drop and she lost her footing. She slid towards the open door, getting a perfect view of the fifty-meter drop to the ground she was about to meet. Zaeed's arm shot out to catch her and he pulled her back to safety, holding her against the wall while she steadied herself.

"Out of practice I see," he smirked.

"Shove it, Massani," she replied. She pushed him off and took hold of the rail gun, squinting her eyes to see out into the darkness. Then she heard a high pitched whine behind her, and the sound of something locking into place. She hazarded a quick look behind her to see what monstrosity Zaeed had produced, and her eyes nearly fell out of her skull.

"Is that a…"

"Rienar Systems Miniature Adaptable Mining Laser. After you told me about your adventures on Therum, I kept thinking I needed to get me one." He grinned like a bounty hunter in a black-market weapons shop.

"A mining laser, and a rail gun in a _shuttle_?"

"What can I say? I have a weakness for big guns!" He flipped a switch and took aim, but Shepard demanded his attention before he could fire.

"Massani! Suppression fire only," she ordered in her best _Commander _voice. "They are still Alliance –" _despite the fact that they are attacking us_. Zaeed glared, but didn't protest.

All that could be heard inside the shuttle was the relentless pounding of the rail gun and the shrill screams of the laser. If she didn't know any better, she would swear there was a volcano erupting beneath them. Her mind was honed on keeping their pursuers from taking them down without actually hurting them, and lost in the pure alacrity of battle, nothing could distract her.

_Commander._

Well, except for that maddeningly familiar voice.

"Oh, fuck, what now?" She couldn't hear her own voice, thankfully, so no one else could witness her sucking, spinning downward spiral into psychosis. "I'm a little busy!"

_Take them out. _

"Is that a direct order, Mr. Transient-Voice-In-My-Head?"

_Is that a refusal, Shepard?_

"And what if it is? What are you going to do?"

_Trust me when I tell you that you will regret this._

"Regret turning against the Alliance, and killing them in cold blood?"

Silence. Infuriating silence. Again the voice came and left without fully explaining anything, leaving her even more disordered and wondering whether she should have just stayed in her cell. And then the blaze of guns whizzed by her head as two military transports swooped by the door, demanding their surrender. Shepard answered with a hail of bullets just below the tail of their eezo drive. They backed off and veered away. The shuttle picked up speed then, and Shepard took that as her cue to sit down, her shoulders grateful for the reprieve. There were no more sounds of guns, and Kasumi had dismissed the display on her omni-tool. They had passed some imaginary line which their attackers apparently could not cross. _There,_ she wanted to tell the voice, _you see? No need to destroy them._

She found herself wanting to barrage them with the questions marauding through her mind during the lengthy ride. Something about their body language told her that silence was mandatory, but she didn't have to like it. It left to much room for introspection, for examining her own torrid thoughts. She didn't want to acknowledge the possibility that the medications she had been force-fed was keeping the voice in her head at bay.

Sweat was running down her cheeks, her neck and her limbs and she felt unbearably hot despite the cool breeze from the open door of the shuttle. Her hands were shaking, her jaw chattering, and her whole body felt restless. A crest of blue energy threatened to explode from her, and it took all her strength to keep it in check. She reached for Kasumi, gripping the poor girl like a vice, and Zaeed came over. Before she knew what was happening, Zaeed had struck her with a sharp instrument, and she felt her consciousness fading into darkness.

"Sorry commander," she heard someone say through the haze that enveloped her head. "It's for your own good."

And then there was nothing but the abyss of dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to my beta, **M4GIC OR4NGEZ!**  
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Chapter 7

When she woke, she was pissed. Instead of logically assessing the situation, she reacted. She tore the cords and tubes away from her arms, wrenched herself out of the bed and pushed a nearby cart of medical supplies to the wall. Alarms were wailing around her, but she didn't care. Her friends…they did this to her, brought her here under sedation. Just like her captors.

She tried the controls for the door and screamed when she found them locked. They had tricked her! The dark energy in the room began to gather in her core, and she manipulated it into a ball of blue fire. Ready to let loose, she was shocked when the door flew open and Doctor Chakwas urgently strode into the room. Before she could stop herself, her fist met Chakwas' jaw, and the doctor staggered.

"Shepard! Stop this!" She backed away, raising her hands in a gesture of peace.

"Where am I?" she demanded, azure flames licking her hands.

"Calm down, Jane." The doctor's soothing voice gave her pause, and she let her arms go limp. "You're in a safe place, our home base just outside of Norfolk, Virginia."

A response, a location. She hadn't expected that. "What did you do to me?"

"Intravenous fluid and nutrients. Jane, I'm trying to help you." She took a few cautious steps towards Shepard.

"I'm not right. Something is wrong with me." She felt that same overbearing heat and shivering she suffered on the shuttle.

"You're going through withdrawal." A few more steps, and she rested her hands on Shepard's shoulders.

"Withdrawal?" Shepard raised her head, her eyes bleary.

"I ran some tests when they brought you in. You were given steady and very high doses of depressants, anti-psychotics, not to mention the near-constant sedation. I also detected some brain cell degeneration that signified exposure to carbon monoxide."

"They were drugging me _and_ poisoning me?"

"Jumping to conclusions is not like you, Jane."

"Neither is punching you in the jaw," she murmured, flexing her fingers. She began pacing back and forth, trying to dispel the nervous energy that threatened to engulf her.

"That brings me to something else: the unnatural atrophy of your muscles. They were trying to render you physically weak."

"Now who is jumping to conclusions?" she muttered.

"Based on video footage provided to us by Miss Goto, I think I understand why," Chakwas continued, rubbing her jaw with a shadow of a smile on her face.

"So, you had them sedate me?"

"Yes, to…ease the transition. It was a two-hour ride."

"Isn't there some kind of drug you can give me now?"

"It's better to do this the old-fashioned way." Chakwas took her arm and led her back over to the bed. "Though the initial purge should help, you are still in for a rough night, my dear."

* * *

><p>Shepard felt like she had been in a state of near-asphyxiation all night long. Sheer exhaustion had finally bludgeoned her into a fitful sleep and she woke to Chakwas and Kasumi whispering together in her room, though not quietly enough. She could hear them very clearly, and they hadn't noticed her altered state of consciousness.<p>

"You didn't tell her?" Kasumi's voice asked.

"I couldn't. Not now. She needs to concentrate on recovering."

"She needs the truth. You're her friend. You've known her longer than the rest of us."

"As her friend, I would agree with you, but as her physician I say the truth can wait another twenty-four hours. Besides, they are still working to decipher the code." The doctor's voice became more strained, and there was a slight pause of silence before Kasumi spoke again.

"Is Massani still trying to locate Allen Xirri?"

"He went to investigate Xirri's hometown, to see if he could find any leads."

"Seems like the man doesn't want to be found."

"Let us hope he changes his mind. Without him, our endeavors will be…less than fruitful."

"Did someone say fruit?" Shepard groaned, thinking it best to announce her presence at this point. "Because I'm starving."

"Morning, sunshine." Kasumi was by her side in a few swift strides, a relieved grin gracing her lips. "Or should I say evening?"

"Evening? How long was I out?"

"Almost forty-eight hours, if you count the ride back from DC."

"How do you feel, Jane?" the doctor inquired while helping her sit up in the bed.

"Like I just cleared N7 level survival training. Nostalgic, really."

"Oh," Kasumi sighed, "that sounds fascinating."

"Yeah, maybe someday I'll tell you about it." _Subsisting on nothing but stims and insects in the Amazon for three weeks, no sleep, only a KA-BAR and one round of ammo in my M6 to call my friends. And that seemed like a walk in the Presidium compared to the Reaper War._

What she remembered of it, anyway. Back in her cell, or rather, her collection of rooms she had come to refer to as her cell, she tried not to think too much about what might have happened. Despite the nightmares portraying her friends in various forms of danger, she realized part of her was afraid to know the truth. She had survived, somehow, and the Reaper War had ended. How it all came about was a complete mystery to her.

She wondered if it was better that way.

"Shepard." Chakwas rested a comforting hand on the former marine's arm. "Jane. I'm sure you have questions."

Questions? There were thousands prowling through her mind right now, but many of them she didn't want to acknowledge. Fear kept those questions ensconced; fear of what might be revealed. Sooner or later, though, she would have to find out what happened to her, how the war ended, and her greatest worry, why no one would even mention the names of her friends. She had a feeling her apprehension and Chakwas' reluctance went hand in hand on that one.

Determined, however, to learn somewhat of her situation since her former hosts had left her in the dark, she began with something innocuous. "How long has it been?"

"It has been exactly ten months, thirteen days since the Reapers were destroyed." The doctor had obviously been prepared for that one with so specific an answer.

"Destroyed?" Shepard shot up and gripped the bedrail. Her knuckles flashed white and the medical metronome picked up speed. "So the Crucible worked?"

_A choice, a pistol in my hand, a fiery explosion, the blast of hot wind blowing me back…_

She cast the memory away, not ready to deal with it right now. It was difficult to believe that it had been almost a year ago. The Alliance had done their best work keeping her in the dark and she surmised she had only been aware of less than half of that. Days were strung together like beads on a prayer chain, hopelessly repeating itself in a mantra of unyielding confusion. It reminded her too much of when she had died and been resurrected by Cerberus, coming back to the universe being a completely different place than she remembered. No one would understand that it felt like hours to her, that she had simply fallen asleep and woke to find the balance of the universe shifted and her friends scattered amongst the remnants.

"It worked, but there were…consequences. When the Crucible fired, it called on the energy within the Charon Relay. The relay was damaged." Her gaze shot up at Chakwas' answer, shock evident in her face. "What exactly happened on the Citadel?"

Shepard rubbed her eyes, ran her hands through her hair, and finally looked back at the doctor. "I was hoping you could tell me."

"You don't remember anything?"

There were bodies, thousands of bodies, twisted and contorted into hapless mounds of rigid flesh. There was that damnable ghost of a little boy telling her things she didn't want to hear. There was an echo of a buzzing voice chipping at her resolve, feeding her doubt.

"Everything is…hazy," she replied, which was a dire understatement. It felt like blurred words on a page in front of her, and the more she squinted, concentrated, the worse her vision became. There were dozens of blank spots, and the few letters she could make out seemed to contradict each other.

"No worries, Shep," Kasumi tried to reassure her.

"Rest now, Jane. You're in a safe place. I'll have some food sent up shortly." The doctor switched off the lights on her way out the door, and Kasumi gave her friend's hand one final squeeze before following. She waited for the familiar voice to greet her, but the only sound in the room was the chirping of the monitors beside her. Shepard didn't trust them, either.


End file.
